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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25356127">Ineffable Time Travel (Eng Version)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/DecaSf/pseuds/DecaSf'>DecaSf</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman &amp; Terry Pratchett</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>AU, Alternate Universe - College/University, Aziraphale &amp; Anathema Device Friendship, Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Bolloshop AU, Dysfunctional Family, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Minor Anathema Device/Newton Pulsifer, Pepper gets shit DONE, Rubí Zafiro y Esmeralda AU Inspirado, Time Travel, Will Add Tags As Progress Shows</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 07:55:27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,306</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25356127</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/DecaSf/pseuds/DecaSf</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Living in a surrounded-by-secrecy family is a problem Aziraphale is used to. After all, the Dowlings are an eccentric and traditional family, whose existence seems to revolve around his arrogant cousin Gabriel. Everyone is waiting for him to go through the same experience as Crowley, a mysterious young man who Aziraphale knows only by hearsay.<br/>Nobody seems to be interested in telling Aziraphale about this mystery.</p><p>...</p><p>The Dowling family eagerly awaits the manifestation of one of the last time travellers in the form of Gabriel, an obnoxious twenty-year-old man who practices fencing, can sing opera and has the best grades in the boarding school. It was predicted by Agnes Nutter herself that only a prodigy could receive the mysterious gifts of the past. As for Aziraphale, nobody expected anything particular from him.<br/>And yet, the realities of all the youngsters involved in this matter are about to change. Especially those of the terrified Aziraphale.</p><p>Alternative Universe: Time Travellers</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Aziraphale &amp; Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Ineffable Time Travel (Eng Version)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">


        <li>
            A translation of

            <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24987304">Ineffable Time Travel</a> by <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/DecaSf/pseuds/DecaSf">DecaSf</a>.
        </li>

    </ul></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The first time Aziraphale encountered what a few days later he would classify as a paranormal situation was Tuesday, at break time between classes, taking the twenty minutes to go to the local bakery. For a moment, between the glimpses of the snow on the street and the smells of the buns, he felt as if the ground disappeared under his feet. Maybe something softer, as if he was in an elevator that could go down fifteen floors in ten seconds. Aziraphale was aware that the ground was still under his feet and that he had been deciding between two buns just two minutes ago; nor did the noise from the crowded store seem to fade at any time. It took only a moment, maybe five seconds. But Aziraphale managed to spill his coffee all over himself, while trying to hold on to something to avoid a fall that didn't happen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The brown bag with the cream bun he had chosen slipped out of his hands, and Gabriel angrily gave it back to him, taking it out of his reverie.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s not like you to play with food, Aziraphale.” With a quick gesture, he placed a handful of napkins neatly in his hand, pointing in a vague direction with an unpleasant grimace. A few steps further, Sandalphon was smiling insidiously, watching as Aziraphale rushed to clean the coffee stain on his tie with his napkin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m okay,” he added, although Gabriel didn’t seem to care. He was already opening the door of the store to the sunny plaza, impeccable in his long coat and with Sandalphon on his heels.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Unfortunately, Aziraphale had been feeling worn out and awkward for a few weeks now. Exam season brought lack of sleep and stress, and it was not the first time that he became so stressed out that he threw food on himself. But it was the first time that he felt vertigo.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The second paranormal situation, and the one that would lead to the first to be considered as such, was five minutes later.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aziraphale had managed to seat at one of the tables closest to the back of the store, from which came the strongest smell of bread and cake. He was taking the opportunity to review a list of verbs when the same sensation reached his stomach again. The tug he felt in his stomach caught him completely off guard. His first thought he was going to throw up, but he didn't even have the time to grab his stomach when the entire store disappeared from view.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he was able to breathe normally again and take his eyes off the table, the students' chatter had disappeared.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And the students had too.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The store was empty. He was still sitting at the table, in the exact same spot as he had been fifteen seconds ago, but the students on their coffee break had disappeared. "Oh no," he thought, trying to grab his backpack, "was I asleep?” Was he late to class? Surely someone would have warned him if he had fallen asleep on top of a bun, right? Someone had removed the bun that he had not put in his backpack from the table, the chairs were all set up and the floor was scrubbed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His backpack wasn’t there.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aziraphale looked down, confused, closing his hand several times in mid air.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His backpack. It was gone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With all his belongings.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He jumped up from his chair, making a horrifying noise that would have made him shudder if he weren't busy scanning every corner of the cafeteria, now empty and with the lights off. There was not even bread on the shelves or cakes on the displays. Nothing. His bag was gone. His grandmother was going to kill him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Excuse me, is somebody there?” His voice echoed even in the back of the store, but no one came out of there. Hmm. Better not snoop around. His backpack probably wasn’t there.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was something weird in the narrow room, something different. The light streaming in through the windows was pale and faint, leaving the normally bustling room even sadder than it already was. He peered carefully through the glass of the door, and immediately backed away with an incredulous snort.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was no longer sunny on the street. It was empty, of course. And the clouds that covered the sky would have been no news to anyone born in London. Snow, however... The street was completely covered in white, and the day was so dark that Aziraphale wondered if he had been sleeping longer than he thought. Maybe he had passed out. Or he had been in a coma ... in a coffee shop. For six months, at least. Maybe it was one of Sandalphon's jokes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The orange tree in the plaza had no leaves or flowers. In fact, it didn’t look like an orange tree. And, was the fountain frozen? Terrific. There was no snow in April. What a weird phenomenon. At least, not a blizzard that came in such a short time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Or perhaps, Aziraphale wondered, something worse had happened. He had a bad feeling in his stomach now that he was not fifteen seconds away from throwing up into a trash can.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He took a deep breath and looked one last time at the empty coffee shop. There was no point in staying there.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Actually, everything will have a logical explanation,” Aziraphale told himself as he crawled (not effortlessly) under the fence that the owners had, for some reason, closed. He managed to push the metal away enough to get through without getting too dirty. Once outside he leaned back against the glass of the shop momentarily, missing the heat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The plaza was strangely familiar and different at the same time. Aziraphale scanned the silent windows, shivering. Instinctively he made his way to the centre. Typically at this time of year there should be people walking the streets, right? Although it was a narrow street that surrounded the school, it was a meeting place for the elderly. And yet, there was no one in sight. It seemed like winter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The cold seeping down the sleeves of his uniform jacket finally convinced him to move a few steps toward the school. His bag was nowhere to be found and he had more and more doubts that this was a joke from Sandalphon or Gabriel. There were few other choices.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He unexpectedly felt another tug in his stomach as he took a couple of steps forward.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He bent over, panting, waiting for another similar retching and closing his eyes for a moment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he opened them again, the laughter and sunlight had returned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In a couple of seconds, everything had changed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The small plaza and consequent street that inevitably faced the boarding school were once again full of students, who laughed and enjoyed the first spring sun, some of them without a jacket or coat. The noise filled the street again. I was no longer freezing cold. Aziraphale almost fell to his knees in a puddle. Uh oh. Was this what it felt like to start losing your mind?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey! Your backpack!” A voice startled him from behind. One of the students in the cafeteria handed him his backpack with a smile. Dumb with amazement, Aziraphale immediately hugged it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In the distance, the school bell started ringing, calling ten minutes until the second round of classes. The student smiled one last time and sprinted through the trees of the one and only pedestrian street, approaching one of the groups making their way among the students.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Step by step, and after making sure he had everything in his bag, Aziraphale began to walk up the street.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was one of the first students to arrive to class. He sat in the last row by the window, trying to contain his stupor and the urge to vomit that were still stuck to his throat. The French teacher, a plump lady who often marked exams during class breaks, approached his table.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Last week's results are better, Aziraphale... Dowling?” He nodded, staring at the table when the teacher left his last translation beside him. "Only six errors. Ah, young man, are you all right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aziraphale was aware that his expression must not have been very convincing, but he nodded anyway.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I'm going to stay back here in this class, if you don't mind,” he mumbled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The teacher nodded, handling the assignments absent-mindedly. The rest of the students began to arrive to the class, filling the first rows of the amphitheatre-like classroom. Aziraphale usually sat in the front row, next to Sandalphon and Gabriel, but it was clear that he wasn't going to be able to pay much attention at the moment. Too bad, because he had managed to memorize the list of verbs this time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wasn't paying much attention when Gabriel entered the classroom, but his sharp gaze quickly met his. Aziraphale hastily stared at the table again as Gabriel took his time to climb the steps to his level. Sandalphon followed him holding onto both of their coffees.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gabriel stood next to him, imposing in his grey coat, still on despite the heat in the classroom. Aziraphale looked up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is this seat taken?” The question startled Aziraphale, and he shook his head, pointing to the nearest table. He shouldn't have bothered to answer, as Gabriel was already placing his things on it. “You can sit in the front row, Sandalphon”. There were other empty seats next to them, but Sandalphon simply left the coffee on the desk and hopped down to the few empty seats in the front row.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aziraphale turned to Gabriel slowly. His stomach no longer seemed as if it was going to come out of his mouth any time soon. But instead, an unpleasant discomfort washed over him as Gabriel placed his books in perfect order across the desk, without looking at him at any moment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Peeking is rude,” said Gabriel after a few minutes. Aziraphale looked away quickly. The nearby seats were quickly being taken and the teacher was already handing out last week's assignments to the other students.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Luckily Aziraphale already had his and he wouldn't have to come down and be seen by the entire class. This time he had reason to be happy. He looked with a little smile at the A in his assignment and the green smiley. All he had needed to prepare was an ancient book on ancient etymology. It wasn’t that hard to read.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he looked up again, Gabriel was also looking at the paper. Aziraphale hurriedly put it in his bag, taking the rest of his books on the subject at the same time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah, Gabriel... “his cousin looked at him ruthlessly that almost made him reconsider talking to him. “Ah... Are you sure that you will be able to hear the teacher properly from here?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It wasn't that he didn't want company while enduring dizziness before he could go home. He wished Anathema was in French class with him. Unfortunately, Anathema had chosen an Ancient Languages itinerary and was learning Greek on the other side of campus. He could have used a friendly face. His cousin rarely showed kindness to him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gabriel slightly frowned, apparently back to his notes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Doubting the abilities of others is not polite either.” He gave him a tight smile. "Besides, you're pale like a ghost.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oh wow. That was really something.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Somebody has to take care of you. Lest you throw your coffee all over you again. That in the faculty of psychology would classify as drawing attention.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So it wasn’t really something. Aziraphale looked down. His ears were burning, and he had the feeling that he wasn’t pale, but red. Gabriel shifted in the seat, finally taking off his coat. He was probably the only person in the entire male student body who looked good in suspenders. Aziraphale looked like a spring roll stuffed into them, and the brownish poop colour tie didn't improve on it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I see that most of you have prepared decently for this assignment,” the teacher addressed the entire class. Aziraphale glanced at the platform at the front of the class, where only a few students were gathering their assignments with their heads down. “Gabriel Dowling, Tomas Villar, and Glenda Whiteman, an A+.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gabriel brushed aside the few dark strands of hair that fell on his forehead and said "Ah ..." quietly, as if somehow surprised. He always got the best grades in almost all subjects among almost a hundred students. He didn't rush in at all to pick up his results from the table, and Aziraphale breathed a sigh of relief at being free from his scrutiny for at least two minutes. Despite sitting in the back row and not having to pay continuous attention to class, he was dangerously close to developing a migraine. Perhaps the best option was to go home now, even if he had to risk answering questions at home and more insidious comments.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Most, however, does not mean all.” the teacher finished handing in the assignments and went to one of the first rows, picking up the paper of one of the first-year students and leafing through it. “Ah, yes, this one made me laugh.”  “Julius Caesar fell victim to constipation and eventually died.” she read. “No! Bad! He was indeed sick, but didn’t die from it! That’s from the first year, Cooper!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Some students in the front rows laughed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It wasn’t that important,” complained the student in the first row, and for a moment Aziraphale was glad he wasn't there.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, the most important thing is that you have also written my last name wrong. It’s A. Gelderman, not Angela Derman.” The teacher snorted, returning to her seat. "And there is no comma properly placed..." she stopped short, "Dowling? Gabriel? Are you feeling okay? Does your head hurt?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>All eyes turned to Gabriel, who was standing next to the bin with his head in his hands.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No... I’m just a little dizzy,” he said, moving carefully towards the tables again "Everything is... spinning.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sandalphon raised his hand diligently. He and Aziraphale both knew what to do if something like this happened.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can take Gabriel to...”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>No. No thanks, Sandalphon. My cousin will take me home.” Gabriel looked directly at Aziraphale, who was speechless, through almost ten rows of students.  The other students turned to look at him and Gabriel leaned on a table weakly. The whole class expecting something to happen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gabriel’s gaze was persistent. Aziraphale began to pick up his things.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, alright. Yeah. Sure.” the teacher nodded, unsure. "If you are feeling bad... I think it's a good idea. Take care. Oh, Sandalphon, would you be so kind as to collect their homework and...”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sandalphon will also pick my things up,” Gabriel said with determination. A few more students turned when Aziraphale descended the stairs of the amphitheatre.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For the first time ever, Gabriel seemed unable to fend for himself. Some girls in the front row let out a gasps when Gabriel left the table to lean half his weight on Aziraphale. Under the weight of his backpack and a boy two meters tall, he almost fell on his side. But nobody looked at him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aziraphale knew what he had to do.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He quickly took him by the arm. For a change, the feeling of being useful in front of his cousin, who was a perfect being in front of the eyes of his entire family, was a pleasant sensation that finally managed to erase the dizziness at the bottom of his stomach.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In the hallway, the headache that had left Gabriel nearly on the classroom floor seemed to fade. He even said he wanted to go back to class and collect his things with ease.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, no, Gabriel. We have to go home! What if the headache comes back?” He continued half dragging Gabriel up the stairs. “Grandma made it very clear...” with an exasperated grimace, Gabriel got rid of the arms that held him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m okay now,” he said sourly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So what?” Aziraphale inquired, searching with his now free hands for the keys to the lock of his old bicycle. “Oh, we have to get home quickly. What exactly will happen if we don't make it on time?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His question was answered only with silence.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, here they are. Your phone, do you have it?” He asked hastily, the roles switched. Now he was the nervous one. Although he knew what he had to do, he did not know exactly what was going to happen. But of course, nobody never wanted to tell him anything. “Let's call home. Aunt Uriel will be there.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Aziraphale, stay calm.” His cousin's voice sounded perfectly steady and perhaps a little more empathetic.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you nervous? I know something important is gonna happen.” He managed to get the keys out of his backpack, but Gabriel made no move  towards the garage where the few vehicles the students owned were kept.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What good would it do?” Gabriel replied harshly, looking only at the hall and the door through which they would normally walk. "We are not going to ride your disastrous velocipede, Aziraphale. We could hardly fit.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We would be there sooner.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And with pieces of asphalt in the butt.” Added Gabriel in a louder tone, and Aziraphale closed his mouth immediately. “I'll do the thinking.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Together they made their way down the manicured cobbled garden of the school, past the grim building and across the gate that led to the road into a path that Aziraphale seldom went on, unless he felt like getting up earlier the next day. It was a beautiful trail at that time of year, covered in moss and mud in the spring, but it hardly fit a bike.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He took out the bag with the bun that was still in his backpack pocket, despite the difficulty of keeping up with Gabriel as he jumped over puddles and fallen branches. He looked at him with an expression of disgust.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Stop snacking. You’ll probably get your shirt dirty too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was probably somewhat envious, Aziraphale thought. His coffee would still be in class and most likely would be mugged by Sandalphon. He had also left his coat, while Aziraphale was still wearing his jacket. Although his cousin's vigorous pace had kept them sweating in the summer, the English spring was different and made Gabriel shudder a few times before heading out onto the esplanade of the small town.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But even if his cousin had fallen on the ground instead of getting better, Aziraphale would not have been surprised at all he kept the same enthusiasm. Today was D-Day.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gabriel had prepared his entire life and part of the lives of others for something that Aziraphale could only intuit was dangerous. Instead of jumping puddles and going to London every afternoon with his friends, his cousin spent the afternoons learning karate, fencing and other weapons that they rarely talked about at home. Unless it was to boast of knowledge. Like every time Aziraphale beat him at any board game and Gabriel would kick him with some move.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aziraphale was also sure that it was some kind of interesting mystery, because his cousin studied history, dance, and other things that he could hardly aspire to. It was always like: “Oh, no, you cannot attend theatre classes, Aziraphale. It is not the same; consider your cousin's situation.” But they never told him what his cousin's situation was!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aziraphale usually cycled down the road and Gabriel took the school bus with his friends, but this time they briskly walked the empty streets until they came to their street, sweating. Well, Aziraphale was sweating. Gabriel simply leaned against the gate fence to wait for him, smiling halfway before ringing the bell.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>My good friend OnionWangbi is helping me translate and Beta-read this. This chapter has been translated by her and what a good job she did! She also draws some cool stuff about good omens and avatar. Go follow her on instagram! <br/>https://www.instagram.com/onionwangbi/</p><p>...</p><p>Heyyyy, check out the awesome ArtWork and onionwangbi drawing on instagram for this series! It seems that the bun is more important than we thought. Hmm.<br/>https://www.instagram.com/p/CCBi1SNoZzp/<br/>Gabriel has the same disgusted face as always, and be sure to pay attention to the artistic rendition of Sandalphon's receding hairline. Leave a comment if you like his drawing, she is very nice and deserves it! Or follow her on her tumblr: https://onionwangbi.tumblr.com/ for more Good Omens and ATLA drawings.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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